


and the stars fall at our feet

by Saraku



Series: Fire In Our Eyes [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Gen, Implied Character Death, Platonic Romance, Romantic Friendship, Where those who became 18 don't age until they find their soulmate, soulmate!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6733705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraku/pseuds/Saraku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Marco,” he rumbled softly, “you should know something: you don’t need to be in love to have a soulmate.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	and the stars fall at our feet

Marco _looks_ old, and Thatch loves teasing him about it. The chef always smirked when there was some reference to his age, even if it didn’t relate to the topic at all – how someone on the ship is his soulmate and they have romantic rendezvous’ when the crew doesn’t notice.

The Phoenix threw the chef off the ship every time.

Marco, on the other hand, started laughing uncontrollably when he noticed Thatch aging when Izo had joined the crew; Thatch, the oblivious bastard, had no idea _why_ the ever so calm First Commander lost his wits whenever he spoke with Izo.

It took involvement from their father for the two of them to get it together. Thatch still teased him about the whole ‘older-than-time’ thing.

Marco stopped caring, but he still threw Thatch off the ship.

He loved seeing the smiles from his siblings, and silently cheered on the members that had found their soulmate; his unofficial duty as the First Commander was to make sure everyone on board was happy, and he’d be damned if he let a brother (or sister) lose their soulmate.

They were celebrating their father’s and Jiru’s birthday when a thought crossed Marco’s mind – one that stubbornly refused to go away. It held up in his mind for several hours.

… Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

“Oyaji?”

“Hmm?” The Yonko flicked his eyes towards the commander, though he didn’t pause in the drinking of his sake.

“I…” Marco bit his lip, unable to think of a way to approach the situation without being rude. One look from his father’s eyes told him he could say whatever he had on his mind. “I was wondering… did you ever have a soulmate?”

Whitebeard was silent for a moment, then a smirk crossed his face. “Marco,” he rumbled softly, “you should know something: you don’t need to be in love to have a soulmate.”

The Phoenix’s normally half-lidded eyes widened in understanding, and Whitebeard laughed loudly, prompting the crew to cheer and resuming their partying. Marco smirked and waved at his adopted father, walking over to Thatch and Izo in satisfaction.

As he listened on to Thatch’s ramblings, Marco realized that it was true. He recalled the first time he met Edward Newgate.

_It started with me, huh, Oyaji?_

After all, the Yonko seemed to have aged spectacularly after getting the first ten members of their crew.

* * *

In a flurry of fire and the smell of smoke, the Phoenix met Fire Fist. Marco’s first thought was that the kid had guts to take on the strongest man in the world (later noting that it was likely a plausible reason to why Ace was selected to be Shichibukai). Ace also showed a characteristic that was rare in cocky pirates, and Marco sighed inwardly; he would be getting a new brother soon.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he saw the new kid cursing at his failed attempts to assassinate the Yonko. He would have to talk to the kid; the amount of beri piling up too much. That, and he wanted to see if Ace was worth it.

“What do you want?” Ace grumbled, the brim of his hat shadowing his eyes.

“When are you going to stop, yoi? What you’re doing really is pointless,” Marco pointed out, noting the deepened scowl on the younger pirate’s face.

“Never. I’ll kill your captain and – “

“And what? Go back to your crew? If you want that so bad, you can just go – “

“Bullshit!” Ace snarled back, looking up and show the anger blazing in his grey eyes. “You think I don’t see them tailing after you? You keep attacking them!” The freckled teen _growled_ , and Marco sighed. “Why do you keep me here anyway?”

“Because we want you to be our brother,” Marco interrupted, eyes locking onto the younger’s and they stared at each other.

“ _Never_.” and with that final snarl, Ace stalked off, disappearing from the corner.

Marco let out a derisive snort; something about Ace made the Phoenix uneasy about the whole assassination situation.

* * *

Marco fucking _hated_ himself at that moment.

It was a simple enough mission – investigate the sudden surplus of marine activity near one of their protected islands, and his division was responsible for the main check up; he had brought Ace along for scouting experience. It went well – there was nothing really notable occurring, and they were on their way back when they were ambushed.

Things just went downhill from there, and it was Ace, their _newest_ and _youngest_ brother that they were supposed to _fucking protect_ who paid the price.

_God fucking damn it._

Anybody who had seen the First Division commander’s face knew that anybody – _anybody_ – who tried to get in his way would be ripped to shreds.

It didn’t help the situation that the information the Twelfth Division obtained meant that Ace was being sent to _Sabaody_ to be sold as a _slave._

Now that they were on the transport vessel, Marco jumped down into the brig of the ship, and Marco barely resisted the urge to snarl; the teen was conscious, albeit barely. Any sudden sounds would likely make the teen retreat further into his mind.

“Ace,” Marco murmured quietly, slipped into the cell after he was sure every singe marine was either dead or very, _very_ unconscious, and unlocked his shackles, “Ace, can you hear me?”

Grey eyes flicked to cerulean blue, and Marco swore his heart just broke. Ace’s eyes were _empty_ and simply _uncaring_. Gingerly prying Ace off the wall he had stuck himself too, Marco nearly shrilled in anger. His tattoo – the crew’s pride and joy, the mark of their _father_ – was utterly ruined, his back torn to shreds after the obvious signs of torture and attempts to break the teen.

Wrapping his arms around the teen, his arms transformed into wings that gave relief onto Ace’s broken form, and Marco knew Ace had fallen asleep in simple, unconditional trust.

As the Phoenix flew into the sky with Ace to approach one of their doctors, one thought ran through his head.

_It’s as if they were trying to erase the mark of him._

* * *

He threw Thatch off the ship again before he took the words into actual consideration; the damned chef was right. He _was_ aging.

“Is it Ace?”

Marco backhanded the chef who had just gotten out of the water, and the poor chef’s hair hadn’t survived the trip.

“Stop doing that, Marco! Do you know how long it takes me to fix my hair?”

“Stop talking.”

“Seriously though, is it Ace? I’ve noticed that you’ve looked older since he came around,” Thatch surmised, rubbing at his beard in contemplation. Marco whacked his brother in annoyance.

“… I don’t know, yoi,” Marco replied, “I don’t have any feelings for him – “

“Yet,” Thatch cheekily finished for him, and Marco turned his gaze to the chef, who then gulped and started running away in fear of the “blue flying pineapple” that was coming to kill him.

When the chase was all said and done, Marco mulled over Thatch’s words.

_… Yet, huh?_

_Honestly Thatch, you’re an idiot._

* * *

Marco never did figure out the answer to why he was aging until five years had passed. By that time, he realized he was  _still_ aging and he had seriously regretted being stupid.

The Phoenix understood why his father had taken up drinking as a habit – he really needed one at that moment. When you kept losing the people you cared for left and right, and with one’s only wish was to have a family… it helped him drown out the sorrows threatening to break him.

“Here,” and a cup of sake was carefully put in front of him. His companion looked at the graves forlornly, a melancholic smile written on his face. “Looks like you need one.”

Marco dipped his head in thanks, drinking the sake slowly. It was obvious the man also needed to mourn – which surprised him, because he was quite sure that he had never seen the man _ever._ One look at his face though, and it was made clear he was suffering the deaths as well.

The blonde placed a newspaper in front of Ace’s grave, poured three cups, and smiled, as if he was talking to the Second Division Commander himself. Marco watched silently, unable to comprehend the visitor’s identity. The blonde turned and started walking, only to pause when he was just behind Marco.

The other man said something as the wind billowed by, and to anyone else, the words would have been unintelligible. Marco, however, could only let out a small smile and muttered out a promise – a promise that he had made at the war years ago. He wasn’t going to break it, not now, not ever.

By the time he turned around, the man was gone, leaving only the newspaper and cups of sake as proof he had been there. Marco walked back to the ship docked on shore, where he knew the crew was ready to depart.

_“Straw Hat Luffy sends a message obtained from the afterlife.”_

_“…”_

_“Thank you for loving me.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, there are two ways I “see” Ace: asexual, or demisexual. For this story, it can be seen as Gen or pre-slash because it depends on reader preference. Also, I just really love platonic/family relationships.
> 
> For those who don’t get it for whatever the reason is, I’m implying that Marco loved Ace. It can be platonic, romantic, whatever. Marco loved the crew, a lot. However, that really didn’t became “evident” until Ace came along, because Ace was the one that started it for Marco.


End file.
